Together
by MortalAcademy
Summary: AU: Young Clary finds someone in a closet on the way out of school during a fire alarm. Strange encounters make for friendships never expected, but a best friend can be found anywhere really.


**A/N:** It's been around 7 months since I last wrote anything, and it's honestly been too long. But finally I'm back into the swing of things!

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters, they all belong to the wonderful Cassandra Clare.

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"Come on children," Ms Belcourt clucked whilst snapping her fingers together. "Let's get to our places, and set up your easels. You know the drill."

For a primary teacher she was anything but kind and compassionate to the class, she treat them as if the children as though they were twice their actual age. Clary sighed as she pushed her messenger bag under her stool and set her colours, paint pots and pencils up in front of her. She made sure they were all in order and followed the colour of the rainbow. Ms Belcourt had moved from her spot behind her desk at the front of the class and was now making her rounds from easel to easel, criticising and complimenting as she went along. Which was usually more of the former.

As she made her rounds, Clary's mind had wandered as her fingers and paintbrush danced in pretty patterns across her canvas. She never really knew what was going to come out of the tip of her brush when she painted or drew, and today was a lot like that. When Ms Belcourt had reached Clary's easel, she seemed to have come to a standstill behind her. She could feel the tension-whether it be good or bad-rolling off her teacher, and she could feel her nails tearing in her palm and the wood of the paintbrush. It was always hit or miss with Ms Belcourt, you either did outstanding or completely terrible. There was no in between.

"Well, Clary, once again you have-" Ms Belcourt was cut off as the classroom door swung open wide, followed by a mass of around four teachers blazing through the door. A woman with long brown hair tied up in a high bun, whom Clary knew as her English teacher Mrs Herondale-Carstairs, ran across the room towards her easel.

"Okay, come on everybody! Time to go, you should all be be outside by now. Didn't anybody hear the fire alarm going off?" Clary looked up at her English teacher, then over her shoulder at her art teacher, the latter narrowing her eyes and a faint red rouge brightening of her upper cheeks.

"Camille, did you not hear the fire alarm going off? The entire west side of the building is engulfed in flames! Henry-Mr Branwell-was experimenting again in Science; fair to say it didn't end appropriately." Ms Belcourt stepped around her and made her was towards the front of the class, passing her English teacher along the way. Clary's art teacher was gesturing with her hands to the other teachers, then abruptly turned around clapping her hands-well more like snapping.

"Up, now! Get your things and make your way outside! No wandering off or dawdling!" That was all it took for the entire classroom to jump up and scramble for their belongings. Clary on the other hand quickly tore the drawing from her easel and pushed it in her messenger bag, that she then hoisted up on her shoulder. At the back of the class, she followed the rest of her class out of the classroom, along with the rest of the teachers.

Walking through the school in a hurry was strange, as she was never in a hurry for class or lunch or even going home for that matter. So despite Ms Belcourt telling her not to 'dawdle' that's exactly what she did; no matter how ridiculous it was since half the building was engulfed in flames. As she descended the stairs towards the fire exit, she heard a clanging and rattling coming from behind her. Turning around and to her left she noticed a small janitors closet in the corner, just hidden behind a corridor wall. The clanging and clattering came again as she quickly approached the door, reaching out for the handle as though it was going to burn her. Stepping back and taking a deep breath, she took the handle in her little hand and yanked it open wide, only to be bombarded and covered with brooms, buckets and mops. Luckily none of which hit her head.

Pushing away the mop and broom, she sat up and came to face a big set of brown eyes behind black framed glasses, causing her own green eyes to widen with curiosity and worry.

"What on earth are you doing in there?!"Clary whispered furiously, kneeling forward to look at the boy. He had brown unruly hair that was the same shade as his eyes and looked more frightened that anything else. His glasses looked too big for his face, which made his eyes look all the more big.

"Shh, I'm hiding!" The little boy whispered back with a frightened expression, paired with a frown. He tried shuffling back into the closet, pushing broom handles out the way as he went. Clary grabbed hold of his wrist quickly, looking up at him smiling a little.

"You can't stay in here, there is a fire, we need to get outside now!" Clary pulled on his arm a little, emphasizing how crucial and important it was that they moved now. Though the little boy seemed to tug in the opposite direction, shaking his head drastically.

"No, I can't. It's too scary!" Clary shuffled forward, never letting go of his wrist and in turn picking up his other hand. She put a bright smile on her face, and leaned forward towards the boy.

"I promise that I will make sure nothing happens to you. We'll go out together, okay?" Clary nodded whilst smiling at the boy. The little boy seemed to scrunch up his nose as if he was debating on whether it was a good idea to go with her or not.

After a couple of minutes, he seemed to nod at her or to himself, she didn't actually know. But he got to his feet with her, and she took his hand as they stood at the top of the stairs. She smiled across at him and squeezed his hand in her own. "My name is Clary, by the way."

The little boy in turn seemed to smile back, though it was still a little wary. He nodded and squeezed her hand back a little awkwardly. "Hi Clary, my name is is Simon."

Clary smiled at him again, then turned her head to the staircase in front of them, with the blinking fire exit sign at the bottom. She took one last look at him and held onto his hand tightly. "Together?"

His only reply as they descended the stairs was, "Together."

And together was where they stayed, side by side as they grew up and became the best of friends.

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 **I would appreciate any reviews or comments!**


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